


Five Times Frank Irving Was a Grade A Cockblocker to Get What He Wanted

by The_Unnatural_Disaster (havent_got_a_clue)



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Cockblocking, Comedy, F/M, Het, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 02:37:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/havent_got_a_clue/pseuds/The_Unnatural_Disaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orlando Jones wanted Ichabod/Irving.</p><p>Orlando Jones got Ichabod/Irving.</p><p>He practically demanded it and who am I to deny the man what he wants?</p><p>Now with this, uuuhhh, <i>ringing endorsement</i> from Orlando Jones himself: "...and I have no one to blame but myself."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Frank Irving Was a Grade A Cockblocker to Get What He Wanted

 

1.

When Irving first joined the force, there was a shortage of desks for new hires. Four people were competing for two desks and one--one glorious beat up desk with peeling veneer and coffee mug stains--was positioned right near the coffee and donuts. And Irving wanted it. And there was no way he was doing his paperwork in the break room like the brass had decided for the unlucky two losers. 

 

They were supposed to prove their mettle to win one of the spots; the better aim, the faster paperwork filler, the safest driver, but Irving just did not have time for that. 

 

When no one was looking, he rubbed the desk with deer urine from the local hunting store. He then taped a small dead fish to the underside of it. To top it off he coated a few drawer handles and spots on the surface with a sticky goo he got from one of those quarter machines at the grocery store. 

 

No one was willing to go near it after that. It took Irving three weeks to clean it up and destink it, but it was his desk and no one else’s until he got his first promotion.

 

2.

It was a rough day in late autumn and Irving was hungry. Hunger of the GODS hungry and he’d already devoured his lunch and his backup lunch and he had 35 cents in his wallet and no time to leave to get anything else. 

 

And then August Corbin had to walk in with a piece of apple pie. A piece of warm, crusty, gooey, sugary, spicy apple pie. 

 

That pie was meant for Frank. Frank was meant for that pie. Corbin would just have to get over it. 

 

The scent wafted through the station, teasing Frank’s nose and stomach and GOD DAMN he needed food but Corbin was like a hawk and getting that pie would be tougher than robbing the US Treasury. 

 

Until Frank remembered Corbin’s severe allergy to mint.  

 

He shoved an entire container of breath mints in his mouth and marched into Corbin’s office, breathing out in obnoxious huffs while he prattled on about some open case and the minty air travelled across his desk and it wasn't long before the first sneeze. When his eyes started to water and itch and his sinuses closed up, Corbin made a run for the bathroom and Irving made a run for that pie. 

 

It was just as delicious as he'd imagined. 

 

3.

Before he was captain there was a girl. There is always a girl. And this girl just happened to be the finest girl on the force. And everyone knew it. Including that rat bastard Dan Carter. Handsome, smarmy, charming, asshole Dan Carter. 

 

He flirted with Lizzie relentlessly as Frank watched in disgust while she giggled and blushed and hell if that trust fund jackass was going get the money AND the girl. 

 

Frank has always prided himself on being as resourceful as he is handsome and called in a favor with one of his old colleagues who had transferred to a small town near Niagara Falls and had mentioned a job opening on Facebook and Dan suddenly and mysteriously found himself with an offer he couldn't refuse. It meant a substantial bump in pay and a promotion, but at least Frank didn't have to look at his ugly stupid handsome face anymore. 

 

And he could make his move on Lizzie. 

 

They dated for three years. Until she got a job offer. In Niagara Falls. 

 

Can't win them all.

 

4.

When Frank made captain he decided it was time to grow up and buy a house. He deserved it. 

 

After weeks of looking, he found the perfect house: two bedroom, two bathroom, one car garage overlooking the river. A backyard to mow and a patio on which to grill during football season. Just about perfect.

 

Until...

 

The Bakers.

 

The fucking Bakers. 

 

They wanted the house, too. Wanted it something baaad.

 

Karen Baker was a force to be reckoned with. Avon saleslady by day and fucking house stealing ninja bitch by night. Howard Baker just wanted his wife to be happy so he could golf in peace.

 

Their stupid kids with stupid names, Rylan and Braedyn and Neveah or some shit like that, tore through the place during the open house and he wanted desperately for them to murder someone so he could put them in cuffs and never see them again.

 

Every offer he made the fucking Bakers countered.

 

After the third round of the ridiculous bidding war, he, and he's not proud of this, he went to the property in the middle of the night with a few store bought chicken parts like hearts and gizzards, stood on the very edge of the property line and the forest, and threw the organs on the back deck and sliding glass door. 

 

The next day he "got called to the property" and made a fantastical tale about occultists in the area and satanic rituals. 

 

By noon the Bakers withdrew their offer.

 

That victory he kept to himself.

 

But he did hold a kick ass party when he moved in.

 

5.

And then there was Ichabod Crane. 

 

Mysterious, fascinating, handsome Ichabod Crane.

 

Lost, confused soldier Ichabod Crane.

 

And every good soldier needs a captain. 

 

He watches Abbie like a hawk these days, ensures she does not have enough free time to sneak off with Ichabod. She's drowning in paperwork and mindless assignments and Ichabod visits his office more and more these days. 

 

They talk about everything and nothing and they drink coffee and Frank introduces him to hot dogs and soda (7-Up is Frank's favorite. Ichabod seems to like root beer, but to each his own) and football and basketball and Ichabod in turn teaches him a few fishing tricks and how cooking meat over an open wood fire tastes better than charcoal any day.

 

Abbie is frustrated and it shows but he's not going to give this up so easily. She snips at Ichabod, rolls her eyes more at his ignorances, and he feels bad--just a little--but he knows she won't leave town. Ichabod has hinted at her importance in this whole mess of a case. She's a good cop and he likes her a great deal, but all is fair in lust and war.

 

One cold rainy night, as the Jets/Dolphins game is just ending, there is a knock at his door. The Jets are down 28 in the final ten seconds, so it's not a hardship to tear himself away. 

 

Standing soaking wet on his stoop is Ichabod. "Abbie said I am no longer welcome. Something about needing her space. I--"

 

"Come on in." He closes the door behind Ichabod with a grin on his face.

 

"I hate to intrude but I had nowhere to--and you see I--" He looks more lost now than he ever did. 

 

"You need a place to stay...." Don't blow it don't blow it don't blow it.

 

"Yes. I was hoping...." Those stupid piercing stupid handsome stupid gorgeous eyes boring holes right through him.

 

Frank nods. "Yes. Yes of course. I have plenty of--"

 

But Ichabod cuts him off with a sudden kiss, body heat mixing with the freezing raindrops on his face. His lips are soft and demanding and grateful all at once. 

 

"Is this..." Ichabod pulls away for a split second and goes back with more force. "...too forward?" 

 

Frank can only make a strangled noise and try to match the demands Ichabod's tongue makes on his own. 

 

When Ichabod finally lets him come up for air, Frank stumbles a bit and shakes his head clear. 

 

"I've changed my mind."

 

Ichabod looks hurt and shamed, but Frank grabs him by the hand and pulls. "I was going to let you stay in the spare bedroom."

 

Frank presses Ichabod against the door and pins him there with his entire body. 

 

His voice goes low and dark. "But now you're staying in my bed with me."

 

Ichabod smiles and lets Frank guide him to bed.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry not sorry, Orlando. All in good fun, mate.


End file.
